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It was a cold night. I was decked out in a cold woollen jacket with a scarf around my neck as well as socks within my boots. Walking along the streets of Central Cardiff, I was having a pleasant conversation with my brazilian friend at a temperature of less than 10 degrees.

At this moment, two girls came along. They balanced themselves perilously on their black high heels complimented with short black dresses barely covering their butts. Their legs were exposed to the harsh cold autumn wind and the faces were smeared with colours, thick eyeliner and mascara.

Men smoking on the streets stared after the two teenage girls as they advanced forward with little steps. “Remarkably unbelievable, isn’t it?, I said,” What must have possessed them to behave in that manner? Are they really attractive in the eyes of men?” To which my friend replied, “Their legs are exposed.”

Soon they were out of sight. With unanswered questions cluttering my brain, I tried to focus on my ongoing conversation. Not soon after, I saw them again.  This time, one girl has a jacket, while the other girl covered with a t-shirt was held on tightly by a bare-bodied guy in his teens. Amazed by the change in events, I was not certain whether I should feel glad that they now have another layer of cloth over them.

I couldn’t help by keep looking back at this sight. Is the guy a stranger or a friend? Where are their family? How many others are there on the street?

As my friend and I continued forward, these questions were offered a temporary parking space in the corner of my brain together with the initial back view of the two teenage girls with the awkward walking postures.

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